The Ballet Game
By Beffy Flowers
After the bell marked the end of the last class of the day, Jimmy decided to risk a second visit to the bathroom. He considered holding it in and waiting to get home, but there was often competition for the one bathroom in the Dale household. He weighed the odds and figured that a toilet stall in the same quiet bathroom he'd used earlier ought to be safe enough. The thought of dealing with his layers of underwear started having an unwelcome effect on his anatomy, so he tried to count his steps as he walked.
Luck was with him -- the bathroom was empty. He slipped into the furthest stall, locked the door, and pulled down his pants. The unsnapped crotch of the body briefer both obscured and contributed to his arousal. He quickly pulled it up and pulled down his pink tights to his knees. His sheer panties, tented and slightly stained, came down next, and he sat and tried to calm himself down enough to pee. The sound of voices in the hall gave him a panic, but nobody entered the bathroom.
Somehow, he managed to relieve himself. He quickly pulled up the panties first, marvelling at the lightness of the material. He pulled the tights up carefully and took a moment to get them properly adjusted. While he was still no expert at women's hosiery, the past few nights had given him some experience at getting them on straight. And after a moment's hesitation, he took a look at the tiny hooks stitched to the end of the loose front crotch panel of the body briefer. He could pull his pants up in a flash, should anyone come into the bathroom, so he afforded himself the luxury of a brief inspection.
There were two layers of three hooks each. Somehow, they had to latch on to something on the other end. He reached between his legs and pulled the other end through, surprised at how tight it was and how hard he had to pull to get a look at it. There they were -- a row of three tiny clasps. That didn't seem so difficult. He paused again. There was absolutely no reason to fasten this. He was about to go home, and would take everything off before Jen could find it on him. If anything, he should take it off now, except for the fact that he'd have to disrobe completely to do it. Still, this was simply one of the most amazing garments he'd ever seen and he probably wouldn't get another chance to wear it. He wanted to feel the snugness over his body one last time.
After a fair amount of tugging and twisting, he managed to fasten the two ends together. The effort had caused the stretchy material to slide against the front of his tights enough to have him fully aroused. With his sweater on top, the white lace that was visible looked like a pair of panties. He pulled up his pants, belted up, and cautiously left the stall to wash his hands. Two members of the football team crashed through the door has he was drying up, ignoring him as they talked about their upcoming game. Jimmy felt a huge wave of relief that he had finished his task before their arrival.
When he got to his locker, he found a note in Jen's handwriting taped to the door. "Meeting at ballet school to register for recital. Meet us there in an hour or we'll see you at home! XXXOOO -J"
His heart leaped -- another chance to see Jen in her leotard? It seemed possible, though unlikely if there was no scheduled class today. He realized that this seemed like a good opportunity to race home on foot, remove the body briefer, and try to calm himself down before Jen got home. But then he remembered sitting next to her on the ride in that morning, how she discretely searched for tights under his pants and clutched his arm. That decided it.
He got his books sorted out, put on his jacket, and strolled leisurely to the ballet school. The feel of the bra straps on his shoulders and the tightness at his crotch added a new dimension to the pleasure of walking around with tights underneath his pants. He had intended to take his time, but these feelings were combining with some kind of pavlovian reaction to being anywhere near that school, such that his pace quickened unconciously as he walked half in a daze.
The spell was broken the moment he neared the stairs leading up to the main door. "Ah, welcome back -- it's so good to see you here for your next lesson! Please follow me and we can get started on some warm-ups before running the paperwork..." Liz Brown had seen him approach and apparently came down the steps to grab his arm, moving him briskly along as an unending stream of words accompanied this gesture. He tried to stop walking twice, but she pulled him so firmly and confidently that he kept walking. He didn't want to have anything to do with her after what Jen had told him, but he also didn't want to make a scene where others might see.
He scolded himself for looking at her legs, encased in sheer black pantyhose underneath a black long-sleeved leotard and capped by black ballet shoes. She was very attractive, though he started to think she was not really his type. He was ushered down a hall and into a small windowless room.
"...All the regular studios are being used at the moment, but we can use this small conference room just for today. It will only be the two of us as my assistant is sick, and we'll just be learning warm-ups so we don't really need much space. I have some music to warm up to, but first I have to ask you something. Did you try on my tights yet?" She looked at him expectantly.
"Well, yes, but..."
"Wonderful! I am delighted to know that you crossed one of the main hurdles for boys in ballet, if you can believe it. Now tell me, did they fit properly or were they too tight?"
With that question, it dawned on him that he hadn't actually worn the tights she gave him. He was wearing the ones Jen gave him, though she said they were identical. He decided to go along with things just to get her to stop talking about tights. As soon as she stopped talking he could explain that he wasn't here for another ballet lesson. "Um, yes. I mean, no. I mean, they aren't too tight -- I think they feel like they're supposed to." His face flushed.
"Oh? Have you worn tights before?" A tiny hint of a smirk crossed her lips.
"No! I, no." He was stammering. This wasn't going well.
Her voice dropped slightly. "But you wore them yesterday?"
"And are you wearing them now?" Her eyes looked down to his pants.
"Yes. I, uh. I, well, yes but really I'm not here to..."
"Listen, I know you might be a little embarassed about wearing tights, but it's really no big deal. You're in a ballet school. Everyone in this building is wearing them. They would find it odd if you DIDN'T wear tights. Tights are simply part of the required uniform, but I thought you might be a little shy so I took you to this private room rather than a studio. It's just the two of us in here, and I promise not to laugh. In fact, I'll share a confession with you since this is your first time in tights. I myself have never seen a boy wearing tights. Isn't that silly? Oh, I've been to the ballet in the city and seen the men, but we've never had a male student here at our school. So you see, this is a first time for both of us. Why don't you take off your shoes first and let's have a look?"
His mind reeled. This wasn't good. If Jen saw him in here with this girl, it would be hard to explain. But the door was closed, there were no windows, and "Miss Elizabeth" wasn't giving him a chance to explain. In any case, what was there to explain? How could he explain showing up here in a pair of tights? If he told her he wasn't really here for a lesson, then she'd know he was wearing tights just for the fun of it! Or worse! He shouldn't have admitted to wearing them, but it was too late to take that back. He decided to keep following her lead and hope for a chance to duck out the back door.
With extreme self-consciousness, he took off his shoes and socks, exposing his pink stocking feet. She smiled warmly and rubbed his shoulder in encouragement. "You see? That's not so bad, is it? They actually feel rather nice, don't they? Now I didn't actually come prepared with ballet shoes, but they're not really necessary for these first lessons. Why don't you take off your pants now and put on my spare leotard? I have it here in my bag, just a moment..."
This was spinning further and further out of control. A leotard? It wasn't that he didn't want to try one on -- but he wanted JEN's leotard. If Jen saw him in here in full dance attire, what would she think? Still, he ran into the same brick wall as before. If he stopped now, he'd look like a weirdo. If he just kept acting reluctant and shy (which wasn't hard to do), he had a feeling she would just turn the heat up further. He still hadn't moved when she stood back up and turned to face him, holding a baby blue leotard.
"Alright, I can see you need some extra encouragement. You have already done the hard part by putting on tights before you got here! Think of this as just a t-shirt. Only, you'll have to take off your pants to put it on. And your sweater, of course, but let's just take it one step at a time and get those pants off of you. Unbuckle, please? Don't be modest -- those tights already cover up more of your body than a swim suit. I am so glad we have some privacy and I can 'break you in' as it were. Soon, tights and leotard will just seem like a second skin to you, I promise. I find them so comfortable I often wear them around the house."
Jimmy was amazed at her ability to keep talking without pause. He did as she asked and unfastened his belt and began pulling his pants down when he remembered the body briefer -- how could he have forgotten that? His pants were halfway down, though, and how could he explain his way out now? Thinking quickly, he pulled his sweater down as low as it would go, and was relieved to see that it just barely reached his upper thighs. He gingerly stepped out of his pants, eyes cast down to his pink toes. His mind was racing, trying to figure out a way out of this, but it was difficult to think straight while this ballerina stood in front of him talking incessantly about tights.
"Excellent. You see? You're covered up more than I am, and I'm not embarrassed in the least. They seem to fit well enough." She rubbed along his thigh for a moment, and then tugged upwards at one spot. "Remember, you have to wear tights to every class. I always have a spare pair, so if you forget to put them on in the morning, don't worry. Let me just slide them up a little better." She squatted down and tried to slide them higher using both hands around one leg, but was surprised to discover that they were already situated rather well. "That's funny. When I wear tights under trousers, they often slide down a bit, but yours look like you just put them on. Anyway, here, step into this -- I'll help you."
She held the bunched-up leotard open like a pair of panties for him to step into. He stood frozen, trying to think of what to say next and clutching nervously at his sweater to keep it stretched down. The feel of her hands on his leg brought about an inevitable reaction within his panties.
"Let's pick up the pace. We don't have much time and there's a lot of material to cover. I can turn around if you like, but I think you'll need help in putting this on. Just let me know..."
Maybe he could just slip the leotard on over the body briefer while she turned away! "Well, I can try to ..."
"Just step into them now! This is tricky to get on, and you need some help. Besides, you're all covered up anyway! I'll just get you started and then I'll turn around."
He set one pink foot into one of the elasticized leg openings, then paused again. "Uh..."
"Young man! I've had just about enough of this! If you don't put on my leotard this instant, I'm going to bring you to the headmistresses office and have you written up for wasting everyone's time. And then everyone will see you're wearing pink tights anyway. So you might as well forget about modesty and do as I say without further question. I am bending over backwards to help you get started at our academy, lending you my own dancewear, but if my help is not appreciated then I can assure you I will stop being so easy on you! Now move!"
Jimmy felt panic setting in. With no time to think, he simply did as she asked. He would try to intercept her before she got to his hips and hope for the best. He put his second foot inside and she immediately started pulling the leotard up his pink legs.
"Wonderful! Now this isn't so bad, is it? Besides, you're going to have to get used to letting me see you in tights. As I said, soon tights will come second nature to you and you'll hardly be aware they're on. Really, the leotard is... er, the leotard, is..." for a brief moment, it seemed she'd lost the ability to speak. He instantly realized that their motion had allowed his sweater to ride up slightly, revealing white lace around his crotch. No!
"Er, I should have given you better instructions, perhaps. You see, panties should be worn under your tights, not over them. The leotard itself will provide sufficient coverage without hindering movement. For today we'll just proceed as you are rather than have you remove your tights and wear panties underneath. But again, I am glad to see you show some initiative as boxer shorts would clearly have been inappropriate. You mother is to be commended for helping you prepare. You'll have to remove your sweater of course. I wonder, do you know where your mother bought those panties? Did she buy them for you for this occasion, or is she just lending them to you? Never mind, you're shy enough already. It's just that I find them rather pretty and might want to pick up a pair myself..."
This was just beyond unbelievable. She kept talking as she proceeded to pull the garment up his legs. She didn't hesitate to situate them over his hips as she talked, and he started to panic again. Maybe appeasement wasn't going to work. "Please. We have to stop. I don't want to take off my sweater. You don't understand..."
"You've already done the hard part, young man! You are wearing tights and panties already! Think of this as just a shirt! And please don't be modest about exposing your chest to me -- you are a boy after all! If I have to take you down to the main office dressed just like this I certainly will! Now take off your sweater and pull on this leotard or we're going to have a real problem here!" With a cluck of her tongue, she stood up and turned away from him. "There, I'm not looking, so you can take off your sweater now and finish dressing."
Jimmy sensed this might be his only reprieve -- his only chance to hide the body briefer. He whipped off his sweater and t-shirt, feeling completely exposed in white lace. He then struggled to shimmy into the tight-fitting leotard. It was very snug, though it stretched easily. He wiggled and maneuvered it up while she continuted talking.
"I'll share a little secret with you. Some of the girls here speak quite admiringly of how men look in a pair of tights. At the ballet, you know. I myself haven't thought much about it until today, but I'm starting to see their point. Tights look very becoming on you, and I imagine that you'll have plenty of girls thinking the same thing when they see you in class. Are you ready?"
He had just succeeded in getting his second arm into it's long baby blue sheath and pulling the neckline high enough over his should to obscure the bra strap, when she turned around.
"There, that's not so bad, is it? Very becoming indeed. Let me just pull this down to cover your panties." She tugged at one of the elastic leg openings. "Now remember, always wear panties UNDER your tights. I think you look wonderful -- and I find myself in agreement with those other girls. Men's legs DO look good in tights." Her gaze drifted up from his legs. He felt immediately self-concious and looked down to see if there was any tell-tale bulge forming under this new layer of tight clothing. Luckily, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, other than what one might expect to see when a boy was dressed so. He glanced back at her, and noticed her eyes focused on his chest area, but they quickly darted away.
"Now then, let's get started, shall we? First, some music." As she turned to attend to the CD player, he resisted the sudden urge to look at her shapely rear and looked down at his own chest instead. He was only slowly becoming aware of just how tightly this leotard fit on him, and how thin the material was. While his male anatomy seemed to be cooperating for the moment, he chest seemed far -- puffier -- than it should be. The slack material from his hidden bra cups seemed to have inflating things somewhat. He tried to pat them down and felt his face redden as his hands made out the underwires of his body briefer.
She turned back around and saw him holding his chest for an instant before he noticed and yanked his hands behind his back. This was an unfortunate choice, he realized, because it only stretched the leotard out more tightly against his frame. He slackened, but could not find a way to feel comfortable with her standing there, looking at his chest. "This leotard has pinched-pleats to enhance the bust a little. Please don't be embarassed, though, because we both know you're wearing a girl's leotard for now. It just gives the illusion of a little extra cleavage. Now, let's start with a few stretches."
She led him through some basic moves to warm up their muscles. For a moment, he thought the worst was finally behind him, and that he'd get out of this predicament relatively unscathed. He'd kept the briefer hidden, he managed to avoid an erection, and she had even cut back on the talking as she demonstrated each stretch as she stood next to him, only eyeing him occasionally. The music was light classical, and he felt he could actually start to enjoy this.
After a few repetitions of some deep waist-bends, she said they were now ready to start with a few simple poses. She stepped back in front of him and was about to take a position when her eyebrow wrinkled slightly. "Is that? What is that?" She reached up and tugged at his shoulder, which to his complete horror now revealed a snow white bra strap. She pulled at his other shoulder to expose the other side. His face could not have been redder.
"Are you wearing a bra? What is this? I thought I noticed something under that leotard! Please, let me see it."
"Miss Elizabeth, I..."
"I just want to see it. Right now. Come on, I can already see you're in a bra, and I'm not going to bite you. I just want to see it." She was pulling firmly downards on the leotard, urging that he lower his arms. "Your chest will still be covered, if that's what you're worried about. I need to see what you're wearing, and there is really no point in hiding it. I've seen just about every one of our students in a bra, so this will be nothing new. But I need to... just... see..." Jimmy gave up the struggle and let her pull the top of his leotard down. White lace bra cups emerged. Unsatisfied, she slid it down further, and discovered the true nature of what he was wearing. By the time she stopped, the leotard was almost all the way down to his hips. She stepped around to get a look behind him.
"Miss Elizabeth, I can explain..."
"No need to explain, young man! It's very clear to me now. Here I am dressing you in my leotard, when you're already wearing one! You tried on my tights but had no leotard, so your mother gave you the closest thing she had on hand, is that right?"
He gulped, then nodded weakly. This was his last chance at being able to claim some rationale for showing up at the ballet school dressed like this. He would never have been able to come up with an explanation like that on his own, and he was oddly grateful to her for handing him a reasonable alibi.
"I am half-inclined to take my leotard off of you and just let you just wear this today. Would you prefer that? Or would you rather just finish our lesson with my leotard on?" Again, she was focused on his chest as she began gathering up the leotard, preparing to pull it back up.
He gulped again, dumbstruck.
Her voice softened noticeably, and her eyes kept wandering. "I wonder, why would your mother send you to school in this as a substitute leotard, knowing how uncomfortable it might make you when it came time to take off your clothes? Perhaps this is what caused you to be so embarrassed today?"
He could not speak. He could only give a slight nod. Her voice was almost down to a whisper.
"Did she help you put this on, or did you try it on yourself?" One hand started feeling the texture at his lace-clad waist. "I can't imagine she would find it appropriate to send you here in this -- lingerie. Some of us wear bras, but clearly you don't need one."
One finger started tracing gently over a lacy cup. He felt her lean in closer, very slowly. "You've been wearing this all day. How did you know how to put it on? Did you watch her put it on over her stockings? Is that what gave you the idea to wear it like this?" He thought he detected a subtle change in her breathing.
Again, he could only muster a tiny nod.
"Did she dress you up this morning? In tights, too? Or did you borrow it yourself?" Her other hand started sliding up along his side from his waist, moving slightly back, feeling along for a strap. "Does she even know you have it on?"
His heart was pounding, and was starting to give birth to a highly unwelcome surge down below. He could not even nod at this point.
"It's, it's so pretty, it would be a shame to cover it up." He hand started cupping his breast through the lace. He gave a slight jolt as a tent emerged over his crotch, although it remained obscured by the bunched up leotard. She moved in for a kiss, and he watched as her black leotard pressed in against his white lace chest.
"No -- please don't!" He pulled back. His hands fumbled and landed on her hips.
"Why? It's only the two of us here." She resumed the embrace.
"No, I don't want to!"
She paused to look at him in the eye. "Is this because I'm a teacher and you're my student? I should tell you that I'm not really that much older than you. Come on, this could be fun for both of us." He struggled and soon found his arms pinned to his side by her in a tight embrace -- almost a bear hug. She started kissing his cheek.
"Maybe," kiss, "you shouldn't call me Miss Elizabeth." Kisses came closer to his lips. "Maybe you should call me..."
"Liz Brown!" With a burst of effort he wriggled out of her hold. She looked at him in mild astonishment. "I know who you are. Your name is really Liz Brown and you're not really a full teacher here. And I heard from, from..."
"Let me guess. Laura Dale, right? Laura 'slut' Dale?" It was Jimmy's turn to stare, astonished. "Yeah, that's right. I know your precious Laura. And I know you've been hanging out with her. I can't for the life of me figure out why she's hanging around with you, so that's why I came on to you, you little twerp!"
"What?" He wanted to back away, but there was a table behind him. They remained uncomfortably close, and Liz seemed to enjoy the stress this caused him.
"I bet she's told you all kinds of horrible things about me. Right? Well did she tell you what SHE did to ME? That slut. Let me just tell you -- no, wait. It's not worth it. I am over it. But I am still curious about why she's dating a boy who's so much younger. Maybe because she can't do any better? I don't know. But when I found out she had taken you, I wanted to get you myself."
"Me? I'm not dating Laura! She didn't take me! I, I'm with, I mean, I think I'm with her sister! Jenny!" He was still trapped by the table.
"What?? You're dating little Jenny? Oh my gosh, that is too much! I thought -- I mean, I heard you were, well, just a little older than that. So you're with Jenny? Wow, that makes so much more sense! I'm going to have to go back to the person who told me all this and give them a piece of..."
"Who told you this? Have people been talking?"
"Hey, I'm not going to reveal my sources, boy. But I had it on good authority that you and Laura were an item. Even today, someone I know spotted you two making out in the ladies room!"
"That wasn't... Wait a minute. No, you got it wrong."
"Look, don't worry. I believe you. It never really made sense that Laura would date a boy like you. And the fact that you're running around with little Jenny -- well my sources must have been confused. Still, if you're with Jen-Jen, then you're still of interest to me." She leaned forward and put her hands on the table, her face drawing right up to Jimmy's.
"But I don't..."
"Oh, you'll do as I say, boy. I OWN you now. If you go back to Laura with this, then I swear to god I'll expose you. I'll ruin your whole high school career!"
She smiled right into Jimmy's fearful face. "That's right. All I have to do is tell the right people what I see before me. I don't even have to lie, do I? You walk around in dainty lingerie underneath your boy clothes!"
"But what? That's all it's gonna take. I have a perfect reputation around here, and I know just the people to gossip to. If this gets around, you're a goner in this town!"
"But what? I've got you, you pretty ballerina! And how dare you turn me down anyway? Me?! I come on to you like this, and you turn me DOWN?! Nobody ever turns me down. As far as I can figure it, you're either gay or perverted to be walking around dressed like that and turning ME down!"
"You're not what? Either way, you're still mine, don't you see? I'm going to need you, and you're going to do what I say and that's all there is to it. Still, I am curious..." She cocked her head to one side and smiled.
"Are you gay? Or are you a perv?" Her smile widened. "Let me just try something." Before he could react, her mouth attached itself to his, kissing him with lips wide open and tongues sloshing wildly. He was so surprised that didn't break off the kiss automatically. Involuntarily, his lips moved with hers for a moment. Then he felt her hand clamp down on his pulsing erection. His entire body shuddered in response and he whimpered.
She backed off slightly, still clutching him through the leotard. "I knew it. You're definitely straight. So that makes you a little pervert. Do you like this? Dressing up in this lacy bra thing?" She kissed him fervently for a moment. "Come on, admit it! You feel so sexy when you dress up in Mommie's underwear! So pretty!" Another deep french kiss. "Or is it the tights? Did I turn you into a perv by making you wear my tights?" More kissing. "My pink tights? Your legs look so pretty now!" Kiss. "You tried on my ballet tights and they made you so hot!" Deep kiss. "You were so turned on by my tights." Kiss. "You wanted to wear a leotard with my tights, and you stole Mommie's prettiest thing." Tongue plunging inside him, hand rubbing against him, under the bunched up leotard. "You look so pretty in it. It makes you a pretty little girl. And now you can wear my leotard!" Wet sloshing mouths. She pushed him down on the table, climbing up on him, tights rubbing together. "Put on my leotard and tights!" Hands somehow landed on her hips, feeling taut nylon. "You have to wear my leotard and tights to school!" Her body started grinding down on him. "Wear Mommie's bra under my leotard!" Long probing kisses. "Dress up in my pink tights for ballet." Kissing, clutching, vision blurring. "My pink tights changed you from Laura's boy into my girl." Desperate kissing. "Oh my god! Oh my god!" Kissing kissing rubbing kissing. "Please wear my pretty tights and kiss me! Oh my god, you have to wear my tights every day!"
The eerie similarity to the words he'd heard her speak in his dream finally broke the sexual trance. He opened his eyes, and with newfound willpower he pushed her up and away from his face. She sat, straddling him on the table, licking her lips. She was as breathless as he was. Her eyes wandered over his body. He looked at hers and noticed a black bra strap where her leotard had been -- somehow one shoulder had migrated down to her upper arm. Her sheer black thighs held him down warmly, and beckoned to be touched, but he kept his hands away. Then he glanced at himself. He thought vaguely that he looked like a girl in the back seat of a car, on a date. His body briefer had shifted somewhat under the onslaught, but still held on tight. The leotard looked like a snug pair of panties, bunched up around his navel. His erection was plainly evident under these many layers of clothing, having been grabbed, gripped, grinded, and humped so urgently. He had never been so aroused in his life.
"Come on, twerp. I was actually starting to enjoy this!" She started rubbing at his chest, but he pushed her hands away and wriggled out from under her. For all her sense of authority and strength, she still had the slight build of a ballerina, and he managed to extricate himself from their shared clutch and climb off the table. He felt himself shaking ever so slightly.
"I have to go," was all he could say. He looked her in the eye, and couldn't help looking at her perfect body again.
Just then, a knock came at the door, causing both of them to jump. From behind the door, "Elizabeth, we have to get to the meeting! We're already late -- I'll see you there!" In spite of the jolt, Jimmy would have felt relief if he weren't in such a panicky rush to sort out his clothing.
Liz got up and smoothed herself out. "Okay, twerp, looks like your ballet lesson is over. But we're not finished yet." She paused to get a compact from her bag and turn off the music. Jimmy pulled on his socks over the tights, feeling a vague sense of self-concious embarassment slowly returning to him as he felt her eyeing his body.
She began reapplying her lipstick. "I have a homework assignment for you. Don't stop -- keep putting on your clothes. First, you're going to finish putting my leotard back on. You're going to wear it home today. I want you to have something for your mother to find, if she ever notices that her bra thingie is missing." She took her time doing her lips, then attended to her hair. Jimmy was listening, but it was difficult. While he was deeply concerned about wearing Liz's leotard home -- where Jenny was sure to find it -- he was glad for the chance to get dressed that much faster and make his escape.
"And second," Liz walked up to him and put her hands on his shoulders, looking him straight in the eye. "You are going to wash my leotard, my tights, and your mommie's little bra-thing. And you are going to bring my leotard, my tights, and your mommie's little bra-thing," she fished the bra straps out from under the leotard, running her fingers underneath before snapping them back in place. "back here, this same time, next week. You better come alone, and you better have them all cleaned, dried, and nicely folded."
He continued dressing, deciding it was best not to speak. "We're going to have another ballet lesson next week. Remember, I own you now, and by then I'll have figured out what I'm going to do with you. You are going to be a big help to me, twerp. This is going to work out better than I had hoped. And don't even think about telling anyone about any of this -- I have a spotless rep around here, and I can have you tarred and feathered in 5 minutes if I want. Besides, I don't think you want your little girlfriend to know just what kind of pretty underwear her boy likes to wear to ballet class, hmmm?"
He finished donning his pants and sweater, and was tying his shoes at this point. He looked around anxiously for his backpack. "I just have to go. Okay?"
"Relax. Don't get too worried. You just do what I tell you to, and everything's gonna be fine. And who knows? If you're a good boy, I just might let you be a girl again. Now just wait a minute and let me check the hallway." She opened the door and tiptoed out. "Okay, go. Go out the back door, over there. Don't let anyone see you, and don't hang around the building -- just go home. Go home and have fun with my leotard! Hahahaha!" She was hurrying down the hall now, glancing back only once to make sure he was leaving.
Jimmy was in a state of shock and found it impossible to think about anything at all except putting one foot in front of the other. He left the building and took a shortcut across a parking lot and through some woods to get to the street that would take him home to the Dale residence.
Brisk walking was helping to clear his head. It would take a while to analyze what just happened, but it seemed clear that what had once been a hidden sexual quirk had now become blackmail fodder and threatened to endanger the people he cared about most, next to his mother. He had to find a way to protect the Dales, defuse Liz, and keep the world out of his underwear. And he had to come to terms with the role he himself had played -- his timid resistance and the kisses he returned to this "teacher" in the heat of animal arousal.
To Be Continued...
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